


In the Cold Silence Still, I am the Waves that Break upon Your Shore

by steelneena



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Nealfire Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:29:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Emma saves Neal from Underworld.  Maybe they finally go on their date that Pan’s curse so rudely interrupted.</p><p>Emma arrives in the Underworld, Neal's warning lingering in her mind. Disbelieving his claim not to be in the Underworld, she seeks him out, and is offered a choice. Her decision could lead her down a dangerous path, but, somewhere along the line, she decided, it was worth it.<br/>He was worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Cold Silence Still, I am the Waves that Break upon Your Shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kay_Drew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_Drew/gifts).



> Written for Kay_Drew/swanfireheart. I was tapped to be pinch hitter on this fic for the Nealfire Exchange since the gifter never contacted the giftee. At all. So instead I had fun writing this monstrosity. Thanks to hungover-angel.tumblr.com for the beta. You're the best.
> 
> Features a brief appearance from my OC, Devin Thompson, found in Hold Still Right Before We Crash, as Neal's best friend in New York.

 

When they finally reached the underworld, it was nothing like she’d expected. Still shaken by visions of Neal warning her off the path, Emma found herself feeling cold and empty, like something had gone out of her. Impulsively she hunched her shoulders up, as if it would ward off the chill.

It did not.

The others around her were unafraid to speak their opinions, and began putting forth game plans and ideas, but Emma felt distant to all of it.

 _“Don’t, you’ll regret it,”_ His voice echoed in her head, though he hadn’t said the words that way exactly. It was the meaning that carried through.

They shouldn’t be here.

“We shouldn’t be here,” She said, out of the blue, in the middle of their chaotic disembarkment. “We shouldn’t be here,”

The second time, they heard her, turned. Emma still stood near the shore, unmoving and hunched, like an old statue, eyes wide and dead.

Her parents crowded in instantly, with a chorus of ‘Emma, hunny’s and ‘what’s wrong?’s, but she ignored them in favour of leveling a stare at Rumpelstiltskin.

“Got something to say, have you?” He asked brusquely.

“We shouldn’t be here,”

“Why the change of heart?” A sly look crossed his features, mingling with curiosity.

“A warning, while I…while I was out,” She stumbled over the words. “I was warned,”

“Who? Who warned you?”

Her eyes narrowed, and colour returned to her cheeks, banishing the pallor she’d taken on.

“What’s it to you, it’s my warning, not yours,” Emma’s defensive nature rallied and she threw up her walls, rock solid. The Imp quirked a brow, noting the drastic change in mood.

“I could have told you that we shouldn’t be here, yet, here we are. Now, I know you’re off to save your pirate, but I’m here for my own purposes. We just happen to coincide.  There’s no going back, Dearie, not till we’ve gotten what we’ve come for,”

Turning away, Rumpelstiltskin stalked off, despite the protestations of the others, namely the Charmings. Snow and David called after him, but Emma didn’t hear their rational words; her mood swing had been brief.

Neal’s image lingered once more, and she tried to recall the surroundings. It had been a carnival – of that she was almost certain. Abandoned and broken down and rusting away. Quite the strange venue for an otherworldly meet up, but she couldn’t miss the significance. Their first date was compromised of a break in to the carnival. But it had been well maintained.

And he had said that he wasn’t in the Underworld, that he was elsewhere, and happy, but happy was relative. And Neal’s self-proclaimed definition of happy was essentially her and Henry’s happiness and wellbeing. Emma knew Neal better than she knew herself. He was one of the few people who could lie to her and get away with it, but she _knew_ him, knew intimately the way his mind worked.

To keep her safe, he had told her to turn back. And she hadn’t. So he couldn’t be happy, because she and Henry were inherently in danger and- _oh god_ , she had brought her son to the Underworld… _what kind of a parent…?_

“Emma are you coming?” Her mother asked. Emma looked up. The group had begun to move off, Henry with them. Gold was out of sight entirely. She hadn’t tried to stop him. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She’d blackmailed him just to get him to come along. Something…something was not right. Not right at all.

Maybe, Emma considered, being the Dark One put things in perspective. She’d still been reeling from being released entirely from Its power. Now, surrounded by the mists roiling about her, Emma felt a serene sort of acceptance, a clarity that she had been previously denied.

“I’m not coming. I have something to do. Keep an eye on Henry,”

“Emma?” Snow’s concern was palpable, but the daughter shrugged her mother off.

“Go,”

She went, slowly, with many backward glances, but before long, Snow too was swallowed up into the mist.

Emma, pensive, sat.

Perspective.

Holding out her hand in front of her, Emma conjured a ball of light. Effortless like drawing a breath the magic flowed through her. Yes, this was new! Her control and understanding was most certainly the result of having been the Dark One. That part of her was now developed in a way that it hadn’t been the last time she was purely herself. Magic like she could hardly fathom previously was now simply a spare thought away from sparking to life. Like a whim.

Focusing, Emma thought of Neal, closing her eyes to everything around her, picturing in her head his smile, his eyes, the lines that connected them, his pepper hair with the smattering of salt, his hands, his entire form. Then-aftershave and mint, Apollo bars, dreamcatchers, yellow VWBeetles and _Tallahassee_. The lyrics from Only You, and Charlie’s Girl and the sound of his screams when he awoke in the night and his voice when he read Vonnegut aloud in the park around the corner from the library in Portland. The way his eyes glinted in the light of the carnival that night, how it felt to watch him try on her glove, like he was trying to fit himself to her and not the other way around.

Sensory images and emotion were her channel, and she built up the image and the light and then, eyes shut tightly, _willed_.

_SEEK._

The ball of light was whisked away as she opened her eyes, and she began to follow it at a leisurely pace as it twisted and bobbed through the strange realm.

It would find him, and then she would find him and then, _only then_ , could she deal with everything else.

~

The ball of light was confused, obviously, because Emma had been circling around the same building for at least an hour. Sometimes it would dart suddenly in one direction but, soon, it would correct its course and begin the circle once more, much to Emma’s chagrin.

Again she _willed._

 _SEEK_.

The circles continued.

Frustrated, Emma harrumphed before finally barging through the door. It was a building she’d never before been in, but it seemed normal enough. The constant sepia was already annoying and her patience was wearing thin.

Movement, in the corner hall.

She spun, hands out, ready to defend or attack or-

“Oh. Um, hi,”

“What’re you doing here kid?”

“Hiding, what are you doing here?” The boy asked. He couldn’t have been more than six. His longer locks curled at his neck and under his ears. He wore neutral garb, modern and worn, but in a way that was almost comforting despite its near poverty. Disturbingly, Emma was reminded of Henry, if she had known him when he was that young.

 “Looking for someone,” Suspicion laced her response, and she watched the boy warily.

“Huh. Dark haired, dark eyed, posh accent? Got a hook for a hand?” Nonchalance buffeted the boy’s entire countenance, like a security blanket. Emma was thrown.

“Not right now, but yeah, that’s in the books too. How’d you know that?”

The boy arched a brow.

“Seen him around. He hasn’t seen me, but I’ve seen him. I wouldn’t try, you know. Bad karma down here, and lots of it. Not sure why anyone would want to come, not even for a looker like that, despite the bad personality and all,”

“He does not have a-“ Emma broke off. “Okay, so he’s rough around the edges. But I wasn’t talking about Killian. I’m looking for another man. My age, going a little silver at the temples. Smiling eyes. He’d be in a yellow bug,”

“Neal Cassidy isn’t here,”

“Yeah he told me so. I don’t believe him. What kind of currency do you deal in down here because if you know anything I’ll pay you for a tip,” The bargain dangled, but Emma could already read her failure in the boy’s stance.

“Currency here is souls and you wouldn’t bargain with them even if I did deal with you. Neal Cassidy isn’t here. He couldn’t survive in this world. It’s all rot and dismay,”

“Can you tell me where he is?”

“No,”

“Can you point me in the right direction at least?” Emma let a pleading note into her words, and the boy appeared to consider.

“I’ll help you, but on my own terms. You leave, I’ll bring you Neal Cassidy. But only if you consent to leave,”

Relieved, Emma found it in herself to ask one last question. “What do I call you?”

The boy appeared to consider her words carefully.

“You may call me Beltain,”

~

Beltain led her on silent footpaths through the woods, quiet and alert as a fox. It was a startling comparison, and Emma wasn’t sure why. As they grew farther and farther away from the town, the more cautious the boy became.

He paused by a tree and then, like a rippling wave the anxious grip on his body fell away, and he was at ease.

“You’ll stay here. I will bring your family and friends to safety and then you must return,” His serious eyes watched her, calculating. Emma glared back.

“And Neal and Killian?”

“I can bring one easily, and the other would be difficult. Choose,”

“Which one is which,”

“It doesn’t matter. Choose,”

“Alright then,” Emma muttered, trying to master her conviction. “I choose ‘Easy’,”

Beltain shook his head. “Clever, but it’s a double edged sword. You saved yourself the choice, but now you have no say,” He laughed darkly. “So be it. But I’ll warn you. In the end, you’ll still have to make a choice, and it will be all the more difficult,” He cocked his head, suddenly, like the fox again, listening for prey.

“I’ll collect your boy first. I think we’ll be good friends,”

Without another word, he stalked away in the woods, leaving Emma to ponder whether or not she’d just saved everyone or doomed them all.

~

Three hours later, Henry found her. He’d wandered mostly aimlessly until he spotted her by the colour of her hair, which stood out in the sepia forest.

Emma, relieved, had pulled him into her arms.

“So, who was the kid that found me?” He asked, curious as always. “And why is he helping us?”

“He said his name was Beltain. That’s all I know. He…it doesn’t matter Henry,” His fist was clenched and Emma lifted it to get a closer look. “What’s that?”

“Oh…um,” His fingers uncurled, despite his reluctance to show her.  It was a key. A key from Granny’s Inn. _Neal’s_ key.

“I was looking for Dad,” Henry’s head hung. “I thought if he was here, well, I…Beltain found me before I could open the door. He told me that we were all leaving and that I had to meet you here immediately. He gave pretty good directions,”

Emma didn’t comment on her son’s choice to look for Neal. Almost certainly that was what Gold had swanned off to do as well. And yet, Emma hadn’t spared a thought until he came to her, until he warned her, until she stepped foot on the shore. Her face flushed with shame. She hadn’t thought of him.

Not once.

~

Hours later and many had arrived, asking about Beltain and sharing their experiences. Regina had seen her father, briefly, and he was able to move on after speaking with her. There was a new light in the former Evil Queen’s eyes and she held Robin’s hand confidently instead of for support. Snow had seen Johanna and David his brother James.

Rumpelstiltskin was the last person to be accounted for, but he to, eventually, popped into existence with a flourish of smoke.

“Beltain found you too?” David asked. Rumple’s eyebrows knitted.

“No. No one found me. I found you,” There was something he wasn’t saying but Emma believed his ignorance on the part of the mysterious boy. “What’s going on that you’ve all seen fit to convene in the forest?”

“We’re going back. I…I met someone. A boy who is helping us. I think he’s a guide of some sort. He wants us to go home. Everyone, but me,” Emma avoided the other’s gazes. “He said he’d do what we came here for, as long as we went home. But I have to wait for him to bring…”

She left the sentence hang, since she didn’t truly know who would be arriving with Beltain at all, and no one else was the wiser that she’d even thought to seek out Neal.

The Imp humpfed. “It’s just as well. Baelfire isn’t here anyway. I looked,” Defeat lingered in his tone, and Emma felt Henry leave her side to go hug his Grandfather. Even at fifteen, he wasn’t above it, and for that Emma was grateful. Henry’s hugs were honest and pure, just like him.

“Very well, we’ll go,” David stated. “But someone has to stay with-“

“No, you have to leave, or the deal is off,”

“Strange deal that,” Was the only comment. All the same, Rumpelstiltskin opened the portal through which they could all return. One by one the party stepped through, the Imp going last, with one, pitiful look back out at the otherworldly realm before disappearing inside, and the portal swallowed him up and winked out of existence.

Alone, Emma stood in the forest.

_Crack!_

The sound of a branch breaking carried and echoed.

Not so alone then.

“Still going with the easy choice, or are you ready to make the tough decision?” Beltain asked evenly. Emma glared at him, furious, about to retaliate, but found herself shocked to look at him. He was taller, older, and smirking.

“You were like five and now you’re twelve. Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” His grin was cocky. “Are you ready, or not?”

“As I’ll ever be,”

~

It was easy. Easy to follow Beltain back through the forest. East to approach the river, to see Killian and know that he was attainable, but it made her neck scratch something fierce. Easy, most certainly. As cliché as it was – _too_ easy.

“Am I making the wrong choice?” She asked him suddenly.

Beltain considered.

“Choosing is partially an act of opinion, so really, there is no right or wrong, only what is easy and what is difficult,”

“But not impossible, right?” She asked, suddenly nervous.

“Not yet. Once you make your choice, that’s all you can do. The other road will be closed to you. Perhaps you need more time?”

“I’m not Alice in Wonderland, you know,”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d be insulted by the comparison,” Beltain retaliated.

“Ouch! That stung. What? I’m not good enough or something?”

“Or something,”

He took her other paths. She met Milah, learned of Killian’s connection with Neal and Rumpelstiltskin, and had the good grace to feel embarrassed, appalled and mildly nauseous. Killian hadn’t told her himself. Not once had he even hinted to it. Emma felt like an idiot.

They hid from Peter Pan; not even her guide, it seemed, was brave enough to face down the villainous man, or perhaps he was just that smart. Emma wasn’t sure. Really, she wasn’t sure about a lot of things.

“Which path are you taking me next?” She asked, and he tried to avoid a response, but she hounded him.

“The difficult path. You’ll see,” Soulful eyes, older than the hills, grey now, lightless, looked back at her like the dead orb of the moon. “You’ll understand the cost,”

“You’re taking me to Neal?”

“No. Neal is not the difficult path,”

“But I thought Killian-“

“Killian is both paths. He is the easy path and the difficult one. You must walk them both before you act. Then, if you come to a decision, making it won’t be so hard,”

The riddles annoyed her practical sensibilities, so Emma pointedly ignored him.

“How do you figure into all this?” Genuine curiosity filled her.

“I’m your guide. You’re the one here with purpose. Others followed you willingly, yet others you blackmailed, and more were told to join. They have no need for guides. They didn’t want to be here in the first place, but you do. So you get me,”

~

The Difficult path, it seemed, led to Hades.

Hades whose wife, Persephone, smiled at them kindly. Hades whose intellect nearly doubled that of most earthly men. Hades who melted at his darling’s whim, but was firm, ever so firm on the conditions.

Her people, safe, herself safe, Beltain safe and….

“Choose,”

“I…”

“Choose,”

Hades’ voice was firm, and his countenance even more so, but Emma, though wavering, stood her ground.

“No,”

Persephone, light and ease and grace, glided forward.

“You must make a choice, Saviour,”

“I hope you’re not going to say easy or difficult,” Emma ground out.

“There is no easy road, Emma,” The Goddess said kindly, if austerely. “Both roads lead to the same end. If the easy road you took, if save Killian then you had, by bringing him to awareness, you would have done so without knowing the consequences. It would have ended badly for you if you had. By coming here, you are allowing them to be made known to you. The dead are not brought back lightly. The Difficult road is learning the consequences and taking responsibility for the actions which led you here,”

Emma’s face took on a pallor.

“My actions? My actions weren’t always my own! I was possessed!” She spat, nervous and uncomfortable. “The Dark One-“

“We know of that force,” Persephone began, looking back to her husband. His unearthly blue eyes were cold, like icy shards through Emma’s psyche. It was worse than brain freeze, so Emma concentrated on Persephone. To her side, Emma could see Beltain shifting on his feet. “We know of that force, but it has little to do with the predicament in which you’ve found yourself,” The goddess’s head cocked to the side, as if she were studying a unique specimen. Emma found the stare almost as unnerving as Hades.

“Predicament?” She asked, putting on a farce of superciliousness.

“There are two men here which you seek to save. Neither option is impossible, but both have equally difficult and equally easy paths,”

 “So Neal’s here then?”

Persephone and Hades turned to Beltain, and Emma glanced only to find-

“I’ve always been here, Emma,”

Shocked, Emma turned. Beltain was gone, and in his place, stood Neal. He smiled sadly to her, and then looked away. His eyes deadened. Frightened, Emma made towards him, but he began to walk away, away towards the river.

“Where’s he going? What’s wrong with him?”

Hades smirked. “You woke him up. He became something other than what he was to save himself, yet, by your arrival here, you forced him to reveal his true person. Now, he is just as mired as your sea captain,”

Shaking her head, Emma began to speak. “I don’t underst-“

“They are at the river. You saw your pirate there,” Persephone explained. “He cannot leave, unless a soul be paid in return. This is the way the river works. Now Neal is there as well. He explained to you that there is an easy decision and a difficult decision. When you saw Killian before, you could have woken him, but your soul would have been bound here forever in his place. This is the easy path which Neal warned you of. But the difficult path, you see lying before you,”

There was just a suggestion of a smile in Persephone’s features, and Emma took the hint.

“What’s the hard way?”

Hades stalked forward until he stood almost chest and chest with her.

“The River Styx is like a funnel for memory. A web a-“

“Dreamcatcher,” Emma supplied warily.

“Indeed. Were a mortal to try and save a soul from the river simply by cutting it down, you would fail, and become part of its myriad of souls. But, were you to say, jump in and find the person you seek, you would bring them back, as my nephew once did for his True Love.

“I’ll do anything,” Emma vowed fiercely, despite the nagging itch at the back of her mind.

“Anything?” Hades raised a brow, and a mirthful sneer bloomed across his features. Immediately, Emma grew cautious. With a blink of his eyes, they stood at the brink of the Styx. In its shallows stood many, many souls, just like she’d seen before, when Beltai- _Neal_ had taken her to see Killian. Now, Emma saw both of them, standing in the river, motionless, entirely enthralled.

“Choose which man. When you enter the river, you must take him with you to where there is a pool, deeper than any other point. You must submerge. The Soul you choose will be drawn into the depths. Follow him there, swim to the bottom, and draw him back to the surface. If you are not strong enough to save him, you damn both your soul and his, eternally,” Persephone didn’t mince words, and Emma reflexively clenched her jaw tightly.

“There’s a catch isn’t there?” The question came out staunchly, more defensive than Emma had intended, but it served its purpose.

“Only True Love can make you strong enough to brave the River and release the Soul from its thrall,”

Emma felt her heart sink heavy in her chest.

True Love.

Sure, everyone had convinced her that it was worth a shot with Killian, that maybe, just maybe he could be the one. But even the True Love’s Kiss hadn’t worked for Rumpelstiltskin and Belle, who were just about as True Love as Emma’s own parents. It didn’t get more True Love than Beauty and the Beast, than Snow White and Prince Charming. Emma was just…Emma. The girl no one had wanted. The woman that no one had loved. The mother who had no child. Just Emma.

Persephone smiled sadly. She was not unkind, Emma could tell, just morose. Steeling herself, Emma let the light fill her, breathing in the energy and power she now knew she was capable of.

_You’re the Saviour. You have to try._

But who?

 _You just should have let Killian go to begin with_ , the treacherous thought made itself known without her permission, but the truth, Emma knew, was that it had been gnawing at her from the time in Camelot when she had turned him into a vessel for the Darkness within her. He hadn’t wanted it, but she couldn’t let go of the one thing that she had left to have. The one thing people told her was hers, that she should need and want. That she deserved.

 _But what do_ you _want?_

Emma cast her gaze out upon the water. She took a step, and another, striding into the river. It pooled like smoke around her ankles and then her knees until, finally, it was around her waist and she found herself standing beside Neal.

 _Neal wanted you. Neal loved you. Neal, Henry’s father. Neal, your Tallahassee_.

His hand was rough, but a little less than solid, in hers when she lifted it from his side, where it had hung limply. He gave no sign that he sensed her, and his eyes remained focused on a faraway spot, somewhere in the mist beyond, where Emma could not see. It had been a long time since Emma had held Neal’s hand. Threading her fingers through his, she recalled, dreamlike, how it had once been. His hands hadn’t changed. The small scar by his knuckle, the rough side of his thumb, the soft skin on the back of his hand. His somehow meticulously perfect nails. The crook in his ring finger where he’d once broken it.

Taking a deep breath, Emma drew forward through the misty waters, Neal following her like a puppet on a string.

 _Tallahassee_.

The waters grew deeper, surging up around her chest, just below the neck. Before her, Emma could feel the telltale cooling of a drop off, and a gentle swirl in the water like the beginnings of a whirlpool.

They’d reached the spot.

Nervous, Emma let go of Neal’s hand.

He walked forward, as if compelled by some outside power, submerging bit by bit until she could no longer see him. Persephone’s voice floated across the expanse of the void.

“Do not falter!”

Emma didn’t look back before submerging, allowing herself to be pulled downwards after the Soul of the man she hoped against all hope to save.

~

Emma coughed as she drug herself to shore. _Shore?_ Confused, the Saviour took in her surroundings. It was a forest before her, a worn foot path and… no river?  Brow furrowed, Emma stood. She was supposed to be saving Neal, yet here she was god knew where and-

A child’s scream echoed through the wood.

Fleet-footed, Emma took off down the pathway. Not far along there lay a small boy, pallid and shaking, whom she recognized as-

“Beltain?” Her word was soft, but the boy heard it because his head shot up.

“Baelfire, my name is Baelfire,” Even in his obvious pain, the small boy that would become Neal spoke with strength and conviction.

“What’s wrong Baelfire?” Emma tested, moving closer.

“S-ssnake bit me,”

Emma inhaled sharply. Venom. That was the cause of the pallor, of the shaking. Kneeling beside him, she put out her hand.

“Show me, and I’ll help you,”

With great care he adjusted his leg so that the bite was bared to her. For such a small boy, he had great courage, because even when looking at the nasty puncture wounds, he didn’t flinch. Emma, on the other hand, hissed an intake of breath. The wound was oozing blood languidly.

Calling upon the light inside of her, Emma visualized the venom that was undoubtedly coursing through his veins, imagined it flowing out, and blood flowing back in, the skin knitting back together seamlessly, leaving only unmarred flesh behind and willed _HEAL_.

A small gasp caused her to open her eyes. Baelfire was staring in awe at his leg. After a moment, he looked up at her.

“Thank you, lady,” He smiled fiercely, and before Emma could speak, she was swallowed by a new wave of roiling river waters and washed ashore to another time, another place, another memory.

~

Coughing and spluttering, Emma looked up into another Misthaven forest entirely. Through a gap in the trees, Emma could see the silhouette of a teen, gazing upwards. Following his trajectory, Emma caught sight of a blue hued star, and immediately understood.

Curious and wary, she crept forward through the underbrush.

 _“Reul Ghorm? Are you there? If you can help me, please make yourself known to me,”_ The desperation and yearning in his voice sent a pang through Emma’s heart. Taking a deep breath, she emerged from the shadows.

“Don’t bother with her. She’s got her own agenda,”

Neal _Baelfire_ frowned.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Emma, and I’m going to tell you about your future,” She answered decisively. Baelfire’s eyes widened. “If you seek her (at this Emma pointed upwards) advice, you’ll end up alone, in an unfamiliar place. There’s too many things that you don’t know. Too much that you can do. She’ll tell you the only way that you can save your Dad is if you leave, but that’s not true. Do you love him?”

Still silent, Baelfire nodded firmly.

“True love’s kiss isn’t just for romance you know, it’s for family too. Parents and children. I know. I’ve seen it work. If you love him, then you won’t need to leave at all,” The words kept coming, but Emma didn’t know where she’d stolen them from. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes. A little bit of love. Forgiveness, understanding. But especially love,”

A new light flared in Baelfire’s eyes. With one last glace to the heavens, he spoke.

“I’ll take your advice to heart, Mi’lady,”

The drowning sensation began to fill Emma again, and just ask she heard the beginnings of a ‘thank you’, she drifted away to the next, time and place, still uncertain as to what she should expect.

~

When she came to, hacking up water like it was flooding her lungs, Emma was greeted with a cry of pain. The surroundings were far different than the previous two trips, and after a moment, she realized that it must have been a setting from Neal’s teen hood pre-Neverland. A sample of the eighteen hundreds, which had never before been of much interest to her.

Spurred on by an agonized groan, Emma pulled herself to her feet and set off in the direction of the disturbance.  Four men huddled in a circle around something, more likely someone, specifically the someone Emma was expecting to find, writhing in agony as their canes descended down upon the figure.

“Tha’s fer stealin’ ye grimy rat, you!” One man sneered angrily, about to bring down his bat, but Emma caught it behind him as he swung.

“Leave him be!” She threatened the group darkly, _will_ behind her words and, just like that, shockingly, they dispersed, leaving only a bruised and beaten Baelfire. Emma reached out a hand and helped him to his feet, all the while taking in his appearance, searching this older, leaner Baelfire for the features which Emma so keenly recognized as Neal’s. His hair curled over his ears, and his nose had that same perfectly rounded tip and his expressive eyes were dark and full of…

“It’s all right. I’m alright. Thank you. Truly, Ma’am. Thank you for everything,”

“My pleasure,” Emma replied, and this time, she found, she truly meant it.

~

If the other cries of pain that Emma had heard Neal utter upon the prior shores were bad, then the one she heard upon arriving in the next was horrific. Instinctually, she knew it was him. It was always him. But the anguished screams, more animalistic than human, were agonizing to her ears. Before she even realized it, Emma was moving, fighting through the underbrush of the exotic locale. She knew the place, and felt a dark shadow descend over her heart.

Neverland.

When she came upon him, he was alone.  Baelfire was leaning up against a tree, blood gushing freely from a gash at his temple. His leg stuck out at an odd angle, and at first, Emma thought that the broken limb was the worst of it but then she realized that it wasn’t a low branch that he was holding onto, but an arrow, pierced through his shoulder and into the tree behind him.

Grimacing in pain and concentration, Emma watched as Baelfire painstakingly pulled at the arrow. The metallic scent of his blood was overpowering, and she felt nausea clawing at her guts, but she swallowed and made her way into the clearing, into his line of sight. Immediately, Baelfire tensed, wary like a prey animal, ready to bolt but caught in a trap, desperate to get out.

Without word, without warning, Emma walked up to him, laid hold of the arrow’s shaft, snapping it off at the point where it met his skin. She grasped him by his shoulders and pulled him forward. Baelfire’s agony was palpable as he screamed, sagging, boneless, to the ground, unable to hold himself up both from the pain and the pressure on his broken leg.

Emma frantically placed her hands on his shoulder, _willing_ with all her might. The gruesome scene was worse than a nightmare and it made Emma want to die that these were the things he’d relived in his dreams and had been unable to tell her of them, to share his memorialized agony. The torture he’d been put to at Pan’s hands was indeed worse than she’d ever been able to imagine. Her fury mounted.

“I should have killed him. I want to kill him! Rumpelstiltskin killed him but we didn’t know what he’d done to you and he got off easy. I’ll murder his soul when I we get back. I’ll rip him to pieces oh god, oh my god,”

The wave washed over her even as she saw red, Pan in her sights.

~

The next memory did not begin with a scream. It began was the blaring of a car horn and the windy sound of vehicles speeding down the road. And in the middle of it all was a Baelfire who was not quite Neal, but close. Fresh from Neverland, Emma could tell, but hale and whole as he could be for a homeless delinquent kid from Misthaven who was seeing the modern and thoroughly magicless world for the first time. Cars and skyscrapers and busses and women in high heels and suited men with briefcases and vagrants on corners.

 _Ah,_ Emma thought, feeling the leftover tension of her Neverland jaunt leave her. _New York._

She knew well enough that the feeling of displacement was a real bitch, and stuck to it, walking up behind the teen, and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Just don’t walk in front of traffic,”

He started at the touch, and rounded on her, like a frightened rabbit.

“Who in the Hells are you?” He asked. It was the first time that he’d ever questioned her presence, and the quirk gave Emma pause.

“I’m just another person here. Look. This is New York, the city of dreams. You can make it or break it here, but the city can also make or break you. So be careful, okay? Chin up,” She told him, trying to keep her voice steady. Once, he’d told her something similar about New York, when she’d asked him to recount his previous adventures. It was something she hadn’t thought about in a long time. Her memories of Portland had been locked away tight, but seeing him, vulnerable as she’d felt back then, was bringing them to the surface.

He nodded, face stern. “The City of Dreams?”

“Yeah,”

“Guess I’d better dream big then,”

And that was all the catalyst required before Emma was sent spiraling back into the river.

~

Even more different from the last encounter, was the one that came after. Emma was outside looking in, curious, but frustrated. She’d tried to move towards Neal – for it was _her_ Neal, finally, wearing the same clothes that she recognized as one of his Portland outfits, his hair longish and unruly and his eyes glinting with a wild madness that she only recognized from her encounter with his younger self in Neverland – but she was stuck, stuck inside a building, of all things. Briefly, she’d tried to find her way out, but it was an old factory, boarded up.

She was stuck inside, watching and listening to what happened below.

“You called the cops?” She’d heard him ask, faltering and weak, and from there, it had escalated. August’s voice was unmistakable.

“Yeah. So again, I wouldn’t try going after her if I were you. Then you’ll just both end up in prison. You don’t want that do you?”

There was a chilly silence and Emma shivered, recognizing the calm before the storm.

“You _motherfucker!”_ Neal raged, launching himself at the other man, who, completely unsuspecting of the turn of events, barely had a chance to put up an arm to defend himself. They were down on the ground before August could utter another word, Neal with one knee resting on the self-proclaimed author’s chest, and his forearm pressing against his neck.

Emma felt the blood drain from her face.

“You _son of a bitch_ ,” He hissed, almost too quiet for Emma to hear. Dangerously quiet. “She wasn’t any part of this, this was on me, I should-I should…”

It seemed that August was about to make use of the opening, but as he tried to flip them, Neal pressed down harder.

“You wanted her to be safe from me, to follow her destiny?” Venom dripped from his words. “How’s sending her to prison going to keep her safe? How’s she gonna be safe if I-“ Emotion overwhelmed Neal suddenly, and he released his hold on August, turning off to the side, now seated on the ground.

Winded, August didn’t move to get up. Emma’s gaze trained once more on Neal. Shoulders heaving gently as he cried, the thief in question seemed oblivious to everything. Minutes passed, and Emma felt the heated trails of a stray tear.

It wasn’t what she’d thought at all.

August stood, lurchingly, clearly sore.

“Don’t go after her. You’ll regret it. I told you already, Baelfire. You stay away from her, or I’ll just have to let a certain someone know that you’re kicking around Portland,”

Neal didn’t move, and August threw a leg over his motorcycle and rode off.

The scene dissolved.

~

Once more, Emma found herself locked away from him, this time standing in the semi familiar surroundings of his Manhattan apartment’s fire escape landing, looking in through a mostly closed window. She was sorely tempted to go in, but thought better of it, the circumstances too similar to those of the last time.

A door banged, and she looked up suddenly to see Neal and an African American man entering the small space.

“You know what Devin, screw you,” Neal was saying, swaying a little on his feet, his movements stilted and quick.

 _Drunk then,_ Emma’s thoughts supplied.

“You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve got Rebecca,”

Indignant, the man called Devin balked. “So that’s what this is about, is it? It’s about that woman that Rebecca won’t tell me about, the one you’re still not over? The reason I can’t get you to go on a date?”

Neal rounded on him unsteadily. “Don’t,” His voice was firm, though it wavered.

“What is it, huh? Your Anniversary, her birthday, what?”

Neal grumbled, and flopped full bodied onto the couch.

“Birthday,” His forearm covered his face.

“So you’re plastered on her birthday and it’s been what, five years since you’ve seen her?”

“Fuck off,”

“No, you need to seriously get over this. Look I’ll call Rebecca if you want and she can come and you can mope your sorry ass to her all you like, but I’m not staying here. I’ve got to pick up Emmy from her sleepover,”

The forearm slid upwards a little, so Neal’s face was revealed.

“You’d do that?”

Devin shook his head in fond disbelief.

“Neal, man, you’re like my brother, but I know it’s Rebecca you tell everything to. Just, don’t fall asleep on your back and die because you threw up, okay?”

“I’m not that plastered,”

“Right,” Devin replied skeptically. “Just lovesick. Got it,”

Emma frowned from without, unsure of what to make of the scene she’d just witnessed, before it all dissolved in front of her once again.

~

Finally, it seemed, Emma was taken to a familiar time and place, dropped into the doorway at Granny’s. Scanning the crowd, Emma found Neal, sitting with his back to the door, hands encircling a steaming mug.

_The date that wasn’t._

Tentatively, more so than her other interaction with him, (because this was _him_ and not kid-him, and she couldn’t pretend anymore) Emma slid into the booth across from him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,”

She looked down at the table, watching his hands, gentle with the spoon as he stirred his drink before setting it on the saucer.

“Sorry I’m late,” She said, breaking the silence.

Neal gave her a crooked half smile, sadder than she’d expected.

“Better than nothing. I really wasn’t sure you’d come at all,”

“David and I ran into some trouble, but it’s nothing,” Emma had to search her memory to supply the appropriate answer. In truth, she’d forgotten all about the date, what with everything that was going on at the time. But right now, all Emma’s time was for him. “So,” She continued, laying her hands on the table restlessly before pulling them into her lap, unsure what to do with herself. “Been a long time since we had a drink,”

He managed a chuckle at that.

“Yeah. An illicit evening of hot chocolate on the carnival swings,”

Emma fell into the recollection with him easily.

“Best evening of my life,”

Neal looked up sharply, openly surprised by her candidness, but said nothing.

“Before you, I was aimless and drifting and I didn’t have anything worth having. That night, you proved me wrong about men and humanity in one go. I mean, first off, you didn’t ply me with alcohol, and secondly, you were open and normal and you didn’t posture and you didn’t criticize. I connected with you in a way I’ve never connected with anyone else. No one will ever know me better than you do, Neal. Not then and not now,”

His eyes were wide, and his brows quirked a little.

“Who are you and when did the replicants take Emma?”

She hit his arm playfully.

“I mean it. I mean all of it. I’m tired of acting like I’m still mad at you. To be honest, it’s exhausting and just not worth the time. I’ve been stupid. I’ve been wasting this opportunity and I’m not going to let any more time slip away. You’re back, and I’m…” She searched for the word. “…basically in a good place, and we have Henry. I want to be on good terms with you, but more than that, I want to be your friend,”

With a tender look in his eye, Neal reached a hand across the table and grasped hers. It was emotionally charged, but not romantically so, Emma could tell, and she allowed it to happen.

“I’ll always be your friend, Emms, no matter what. Nothing will ever, ever change that,”

Before the scene dissipated once more, Emma had a chance to flash him a genuine smile. But the cathartic experience was over, and she was dropped unceremoniously back into the fray.

~

It was the woods. Emma knew the spot instantly, even without the weight of him across her lap, in her arms, his body shuddering with each breath he took. They grew shallower by the moment, and the tears came unbidden to her eyes, just like they had when Neal had really died.

Here she was again, at the precipice, and this time, she knew, nothing could be spared. It was as real in the moment as it ever had been, and Emma found herself forgetting that it wasn’t, that she’d done this before, as he dug his hand in his pocket to withdraw the pendant. Placed it in her hand.

_“Find Tallahassee, even if it’s without me,”_

This time, Emma spoke.

“No, no, you don’t get to say that! Never! I don’t want to hear it again, Neal! You _are_ Tallahassee! I can’t get there without you, it doesn’t exist without you, you can’t you can’t-“Her sobs wrenched the words from her mouth and, through the pain, Neal smiled sadly at her.

“Waited too long to hear you say that,” He managed, and at the words, Emma broke.

Leaning down frantically she pressed her lips to his. It was a chaste kiss, tender and covered in tears and haphazard strands of her long blonde hair, but she felt him inhale beneath her, reach a tentative hand towards her face and-

 Emma was gasping, choking out water and taking in air greedily. She lay on the shore of the river, Neal, still and unmoving beside her. They both were soaked to the bone, but Emma disregarded her state, immediately turning to him, rolling him over as he coughed, and came back from unconsciousness. He was solid now, in a way he hadn’t been before, like there was a substance to the living that the dead simply could never attain, a glowing warmth to his skin that had been absent. His eyes flickered and remained closed, but his breath was coming evenly.  Relieved, Emma breathed out at last.

She felt the eyes of the god and goddess on her before she saw them. Standing, not bothering to brush herself off, Emma confronted Hades.

“Did I-“

“Succeed?” He smirked, his eyes still glinting with something just shy of malicious. “What do you think?”

Emma glanced down at Neal’s prone form once more, and then back up at Hades and Persephone.

“Yes, Emma, you succeeded,” The goddess took small pity on her. “The Neal you see before you is hale and whole. Logistically, you needn’t worry. When you return, he’ll remain by your side. He won’t wake up in a grave,”

Up until that point, Emma hadn’t even considered the possibility, but it left her feeling queasy.

“You can return with him above now,” The ethereal woman continued, her eyes kind.

“Thanks,” Crouching beside Neal, she shook his shoulder until his eyes creaked open, blinking against the sepia light.

“Emma?” Confusion lanced his features. “Where-?”

“Not right now. Can you stand?”

They managed it together with some difficulty, and, once he was steady on his feet, a portal appeared before them.

“And don’t come back,” Hades groused as they stepped towards it. Emma didn’t deign him with a response.

~

They landed at night in the forest at _the spot_. Emma cringed. So did Neal.

“I was dead, wasn’t I?” He asked after a quiet moment.

“Yeah,” Emma looked up to see the moon peaking behind the leaves; anything to keep from looking at him.

“How long?” He was watching her. Emma could feel it, tickling the back of her neck.

“Henry’s fifteen now,”

The resulting silence was impossibly heavy. Emma could feel it, sinking over her, knew exactly what he was thinking. He put their joint thought into words.

“I haven’t seen him since he was eleven,”

Sure, he’d been back, but it had already been a year later and then he was dead before Henry could even know that he was there. Neal hadn’t seen his son in almost four years.

Finally, Emma gathered the courage to face him. Neal too was looking up at the moon now. It illuminated his face enough that she caught the shine of silent tears on his cheeks.

“So I guess I’m not going to get a quick up-date then, before we head back, am I?” He broke his gaze with the celestial face and turned to her, his features set and serious.

Emma contemplated her answer for a moment, before replying.

“A lot has happened. Some things are relevant, some things aren’t,”

“Give me a brief rundown?”

“Your Dad and Belle got married,” Neal nodded fondly at that. “Some stuff happened…a lot of stuff happened, I won’t really get into it, but long story short, he’s not the Dark One anymore, or, at least, he wasn’t for a while. I…”

“What?”

“I was the Dark One,” That time, Emma was unable to tear herself from his gaze. It was the biggest bomb she had to drop, and it had landed firmly and disastrously. Then, he did the unexpected.

“Okay,”

She gaped. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say, is ‘okay’?”

“Well you’re not anymore so I guess I’ll freak out about it later. I don’t really feel like I have the luxury of freaking out about anything right now. So that means my Dad is the Dark One again. Okay. That’s fine too. I mean, I’d prefer it if he wasn’t, but honestly? He’s been the Dark One longer than he hasn’t, for me now, so whatever, I’m over it. If dying can’t put things in perspective for me, then I’m an idiot,” Complacently, Neal shrugged, and then waited for Emma to continue.

“Um, Robin and Regina are a couple. Camelot’s a thing. Henry had a girlfriend for a while. I dated Killian and then sort of made him a Dark One too. My parents named my little brother after you,” She strung everything into one long, quick sentence and waited for Neal to attach to some detail. He did exactly that.

“Wait, back up, Henry had a girlfriend?”

And suddenly, everything was right with the world. Neal Cassidy was alive and his first concern was for his son and Emma-

Finally it hit her.

All the memories in the river had led her farther and farther away from the conversation on the shore. She’d simply reacted to each and every situation as it had come, not questioning her actions or what she would be required to do.

In all of that fuss, in all of the emotional turmoil, Emma had forgotten the catch.

“What?” Neal asked, eyes growing concerned when she failed to answer his question.

“Yeah, Henry had a girlfriend. There’s something else,” She paused, and he waited, cautious. Emma held his gaze indefinitely.

“I went to the underworld to save Killian. It was my fault he ended up there. But when I got there, I didn’t save him, I saved you. I could never have saved anyone but you. It’s a trade. A soul for a soul. But I went into the River Styx to bring you back. And I went through every terrible and traumatic memory and a couple of weird good ones too. I did all that and I didn’t know if it would work,”

“Why?” His query was innocent, and his gaze intent.

“There was a catch, Neal. True Love. It had to be True Love,”

There was a quiet intake of breath as the words full meaning impacted him.

“I’ll be whatever you need me to be, Emma,” Was Neal’s reply, and Emma felt a pang as she was reminded of the encounter in the River when she’d gone on the Date That Wasn’t.

“It’s always been you, Neal. It’s only ever been you,”

Together, they turned their eyes back to the sky, faces bathed in the calming light as they stood in the peacefulness of the wood. Crickets, the occasional frog, a lone hoot owl, and the wind, a gentle drifting thing that barely rustled the leaves, filled the comfortable silence. There would be more time to speak later, better moments to give Neal the details of the years he’d missed.

Without looking away, Emma took Neal’s hand in hers. He squeezed her hand gently and the night wore on around them.

 


End file.
